


Newcomer

by GretchenSinister



Category: Rise of the Guardians (2012), The Nightmare Before Christmas (1993)
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-05
Updated: 2019-05-05
Packaged: 2020-02-26 00:59:47
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 945
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18713269
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GretchenSinister/pseuds/GretchenSinister
Summary: Original Prompt: "Mr Oogie Boogie (and the rest of Halloween Town?) meets the real boogeyman.+ Pitch is starting to develop a strong dislike for everyone named Jack"I really couldn’t think of any reason for Pitch to dislike Jack Skellington upon meeting him so I wrote instead about Pitch meeting Halloween/Halloweentown.I was tempted to only write a parody of “What’s this?” but song parodies are really hard to write when you’re supposed to be doing something else. But that’s where the spirit of this fic comes from.





	Newcomer

**Author's Note:**

> Originally posted on Tumblr on 7/17/2015.

Pitch awoke—or came to, that might be more accurate—in broad daylight, and immediately prepared himself for the onslaught of a screaming headache and the chorus of other aches and pains that were sure to follow. He never understood why he couldn’t stay unconscious until he was completely healed from whatever defeat he had just suffered. He shut his eyes and frowned, waiting.  
  
He waited, and waited, and the headache and the pains didn’t come. In all honesty, he didn’t feel bad at all. He tentatively opened his eyes once more. It was definitely daytime. Late afternoon, if he had to guess. But the sunlight didn’t hurt him. In fact, it seemed to lift his spirits, as it would for mortals.  
  
He stood up—smoothly, painlessly—and looked around. He was in a forest of tall, spindly, black-barked trees. Most of them were leafless, and the few of them that still had leaves displayed them in the flame colors of autumn. Aside from fallen leaves, the ground was nearly bare. He touched one of the tree trunks, tilting his head and narrowing his eyes. It was entirely possible that he had been dead to the world for six or seven months, plus any number of years, but these trees were unlike any he had seen before. They were too… _ideal_  for throwing sharp silhouettes against the moon, for putting the viewer in mind of grasping claws, for rattling in the howling wind. He liked them. And unless the world had changed to better accommodate what he liked while he had been unconscious, he wasn’t in the world as he had known it.  
  
A further look at his surroundings revealed something that looked very much like a path through the woods, and he followed it without hesitation. He didn’t know why he was so sure that this place held nothing for  _him_  to fear, but being an expert in such matters, he trusted his instincts entirely.  
  
*  
  
The woods never retreated entirely, which Pitch approved of, but the path soon became something of a road, mostly paved, though with plenty of healthy cracks full of weeds in some stones and orangey lichen on others. Other signs of habitation appeared rapidly: fields full of ripening pumpkins, cornfields dotted with sheaves, orchards full of gnarled apple trees, and then, over the curve of a hill, a town with a stone wall and an open gate.  
  
_Halloweentown_ , Pitch read.  
  
Oh, really? And what did that mean? He looked beyond the stone wall to see a moderate number of buildings—everything a town might need to function as a town, he supposed—though none of them seemed entirely…right. They were tall, and narrow, and crooked, and the Victorian gingerbread on them was all done in black and shades of gray. Pitch liked them quite as much as the trees.  
  
He passed through the gate and into the town, staying in the shadows as he explored. What was this place, where every house looked haunted? Where all the trees were twisted, where the sunlight did not burn him? The creatures decorating the public buildings were bats and cats, spiders and ravens, and monsters from the deep sea. No lions-horses-dolphins here! The streets were narrow and full of more shadowy alcoves than he had ever dreamed; every storefront seemed to display only items that could carry curses or be used as murder weapons. But where were the people? Who lived here? He had to see them.  
  
Where would they be? He lurked about the margins of the town, each step he took revealing to him more frightening wonders, more scary strangenesses to bring a smile to his face. Why, if he could escape his lair, he’d love to live in a place like this!  
  
Finally, he realized that there was no help for it, and he’d have to approach the main square.  
  
Ah! Though the day was quiet, there were enough citizens of this town walking to and fro for him to see what they were. And they were…glorious. Oh, perhaps that was not a description that many might have used. Most might see them and call them by various names of monsters. But for Pitch, it was easy to see that they were bizarre, yes, grotesque, yes, and, most importantly: they were made to scare, and they were just going about their lives. Pitch stared, and Pitch wanted, and forgot to hide himself in the shadows.  
  
*  
  
Jack Skellington watched the visitor from where he knew he would not be seen. The look on the face of that thin, gray-skinned man was familiar to him, though usually he didn’t see it on accidental visitors to Halloween Town. He grinned. How wonderful! He’d love to be able to show off the town to someone who would appreciate it—they’d been working so hard to keep it up now that they’d had to take over the scaring of the late Oogie Boogie. It was curious, though—where would this visitor have come from? He didn’t seem like he would fit in with any of the other Holiday Worlds. In fact, when Jack first saw him, he thought at first he might be a native of Halloweentown that he somehow hadn’t met yet.  
  
But no. No native would look so surprised at what they saw, no matter how new they were or how pleased they were with it. So this man was definitely a visitor, and Jack couldn’t wait to give him the tour!  
  
Depending on how he handled that, he might not just be a visitor—he might be a newcomer! Jack grinned even wider, and he stalked out to greet him. 

**Author's Note:**

> Comments from Tumblr:
> 
> bowlingforgerbils said: This is really sweet for some reason, like Pitch has found a place to call home. :)


End file.
